


farewell, paradise

by wordstruck



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23311225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstruck/pseuds/wordstruck
Summary: Yamagata makes a quip about Semi’s bedhead, and Reon cracks up, and Ushijima says he doesn’t understand why it is ridiculous because everyone’s hair is disheveled in the morning. And Tendou looks at them all and hears,we don’t care what you’re like or what you do, you’re one of us.Tendou looks at them and thinks, he has a team now.(Sanctuary,that’s what this is. Paradise.)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	farewell, paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Ko-Fi request for [@karasnonolibero](https://twitter.com/karasnonolibero) on Twitter! The prompt was for Tendou leaving volleyball. Who knew I had enough feelings for Tendou to be sad about him for 1.3k words. I do like the little shit tho, he's a good guy. Pls have emotions about him with me.

* * *

The thing is — the thing is, when you get down to it, Tendou really does love volleyball.

He’d loved it from the first moment he’d learned to throw up a ball, from that first practice when he’d been seven and all he and his teammates could do was pass to each other. It didn’t matter that he was — _unconventional_ at the best of times; didn’t matter that his antics disrupted training as often as not; didn’t matter that he exasperated coaches and teammates alike with his reckless plays and decisions. He doesn’t even understand what’s wrong, really — if he makes them win, then isn’t that a good thing?

So it doesn’t matter, really. What _does_ matter to him is that on the volleyball court, he feels _free._

There is a wildfire inside Tendou when he plays volleyball that he doesn’t feel anywhere else. It starts when he first successfully blocks a spike and the opposing players dive to save the ball — starts when they all look up at him, angry and defeated and defiant — and Tendou realizes he’s done that, he’s shut them down and sent them sprawling with his own skill. It starts with a block kill and it escalates, an upward spiral turning more and more out of control until—

( _So long as you get us points, I don’t care what you do._ )

Shiratorizawa is a revelation and a much-needed restraint.

It’s a bit of a contradiction, really. Washijo-sensei lets him loose on the court, allows him to decide for himself who to block and how to do it. Nobody here cares that he breaks any and all carefully-calculated blocking systems, because he’s _good._ At the same time, Washijo-sensei teaches Tendou how to become more discerning — how to watch for quirks and giveaways on the court, how to follow a toss; how to eliminate the options in split-seconds and shut down the best shot. Now that he’s been let off his leash, Tendou _thrives._

 _Only volleyball,_ Tendou thinks as he grins foxkill and jumps, shutting down the opposing ace in one go. The ball slams to the floor with a shock that reverberates across the court. The constellations spin static in Tendou’s palms and his lungs. The world funnels down to one gymnasium in Sendai, and Tendou has just scored his first point off a kill block in high school.

Beside him, Semi punches his shoulder and smirks, says “Nice timing.”

Tendou feels his grin widen as he stares at the opposition libero staring at him from the other side of the net, expression twisted in frustration. He breathes deep, inhales the noise of the crowd and the cheers of his teammates and the whistle of the referee as he signals the point.

_Only volleyball can make you feel like this._

It grows, the wildfire. It ebbs and flares but never dies, because Tendou is beginning to understand that he’s _wanted,_ now — on and off the court. For what he brings to the team and what he is as a person, he’s wanted, even liked. He sits in the cafeteria and Semi joins him, dragging Reon alongside. Soon enough they even get Ushijima to sit with them, although most of the jokes and pop culture references fly over his head. Tendou sits with his classmates and for possibly the first time in his life, feels that he and his terrible personality and his weirdness have found a place to fit.

Yamagata makes a quip about Semi’s bedhead, and Reon cracks up, and Ushijima says he doesn’t understand why it is ridiculous because everyone’s hair is disheveled in the morning. And Tendou looks at them all and hears, _we don’t care what you’re like or what you do, you’re one of us._

Tendou looks at them and thinks, he has a team now.

( _Sanctuary,_ that’s what this is. Paradise.)

Tendou doesn’t think he’s spoiled for winning until they don’t win anymore.

He supposes he’s taken it a bit for granted, their strength — individual and combined. Being on Shiratorizawa already makes them feel undefeatable; having Ushijima had made them feel invincible.

They come up against teams of all levels of skill and strategy, but it never matters. They simply bulldoze through their opposition, coming up better in every skill — spikes, sets, receives. Blocks. Tendou has never felt more free than on the court with this team, _his_ team, these players that trust him to jump and jump and roof every spiker who tries to stand against them. 

_Guess Monster_ , they call him. Whispers follow off the court about Shiratorizawa’s redhead middle blocker, the wild card, and he grins foxkill as he swaggers past. There is wildfire in his veins and fear in the faces of the players across the court, and Tendou _loves_ it.

 _Break them,_ he thinks as he assesses their formation — picks his option — prepares to jump. Break them down, wear them out; block spike after spike until every carefully-put-together play shatters.

Jump, block, attack. Win.

Tendou doesn’t realize he’s spoiled for winning until they lose.

He’s underestimated them, Karasuno. Taken that loud shorty and his genius setter partner lightly. He’s so used to winning — so used to invincibility — that it almost doesn’t register that they’ve lost.

But the whistle blows, and the rowdy flock of crows on the other side of the net start yelling, and they’ve lost.

One shock, and Tendou’s hard-fought and hard-earned sanctuary is gone.

 _Only volleyball,_ he muses, as he turns his head up to the blinding fluorescent lights and sighs in defeat.

He tells Ushijima after, easily, that he’s no longer playing volleyball.

He could, of course. He has no shortage of offers from colleges, from semi-pro and pro teams. Playing for Shiratorizawa gets half a foot through the door; having such a loud and distinctive playing style doesn’t hurt, either. He could keep going, follow his teammates or head somewhere else entirely.

Tendou really does love volleyball, after all. This is also why he decides to walk away.

Washijo-sensei asks _why,_ but he doesn’t seem surprised. Tendou knows he could give any number of reasons, but in the end, he simply smiles and shakes his head. He simply knows, down in his bones — it’s not for him. And it’s fine.

He can chase other freedoms.

The worst part, in the aftermath, is shaking himself out of old rhythms and settling into a new normal of no volleyball.

He forgets, sometimes, that there’s no more training; forgets that he doesn’t have to get up at fuck o’clock to try and keep up with Ushijima’s running. He ends up walking to the gym when he no longer has a reason to be there. He finds himself with plenty of time on his hands and while studying fills most of that—

(His palms miss the sting of the ball, the feeling of constellations sparking.)

Few enough student-athletes get opportunities to go pro. Fewer still make decent careers out of sport, let alone find success. Tendou knows the odds and knows himself well enough that he can draw his lines here, where high school volleyball ends. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, but.

(Washijo-sensei tells him inside a small office: _wherever it is you go, I trust you to make a place for yourself._ )

Twelve weeks after they lose in the Spring High prefectural finals, Tendou packs away his sports gear and his habits and his regrets. He tapes up the box, and smiles.

Semi hammers on the door and tells him to _hurry the fuck up, we’re hungry._

He puts the box away and exits the room with a grin, throwing an arm around his friend and laughing. He can draw his lines, it’s fine; he can build a sanctuary on more than volleyball now.

(He can love volleyball from somewhere not on the court.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked it XD Come say hi on Twitter — I'm [@redluxite](https://twitter.com/redluxite), and I'm usually yelling about Haikyuu, BNHA, Voltron, etc. You can check there for how to request your own shortfic or for other ways to support my writing!


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